


I Think That You'll Be Happier

by crushondeanlikeafairy



Series: The Happy Saga [2]
Category: S.W.A.T. (TV 2017)
Genre: Character Death, Counseling, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Guilt, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Sequel, Stalker, Street Needs a Hug, Team as Family, no beta we die like men, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-08-14 07:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushondeanlikeafairy/pseuds/crushondeanlikeafairy
Summary: It's been a year since Maya was locked up, but he was never really free of her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song 'Happier' by Marshmello.  
Thank you so much @punkflaming0 for the marvelous idea for a sequel!
> 
> Trigger warning! Seriously, please read the tags. This has some sensitive content in it, a little more so than the previous installment.  
That said, the first story can totally be read as a stand-alone!

The first few months were the hardest ones. Despite the fact that he knew _ she _ was locked up in a cell somewhere far away from him, it took a while for his brain to catch up. He developed the habit of circling the entire house two or three times, checking that all the doors and windows were locked. She was gone now and the world moved on, but he learned the hard way that letting go wouldn’t be so easy. A part of him in the back of his mind was worried that her four-year sentence wouldn’t be enough time for her to calm down. That part of him was what supplied the nightmares that still came now and again, on the nights that he actually managed to fall asleep. In the real world, she may be locked up, but in his dreams, she succeeded in killing him that night. Hondo and Chris had been just a moment too late.

Valentine’s Day was rolling around. What normally was one of his favorite holidays was now the anniversary of the day he met her and he wasn’t in the holiday spirit. In fact, ever since they’d entered into February his mood had become a dour one and his team had definitely noticed. For Tan and Luca, it became a mission for them to cheer him up. And to them, that meant finding him a new girlfriend.

Luca and Street were the last to arrive in the locker room that morning. Tan seemed eager to see them, waving hello with a big grin on his face. He held his tongue until everyone was done getting their gear on, Deacon and Hondo finishing first and heading out.

“Hey, man. I was wondering, Bonnie’s got this friend. She’s really broken up that she doesn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day, and we said we’d try and find her one. We were thinking that if you were interested, we could make it like a double date or something. Could be fun.”

“Uh, no thanks,” he answered, shutting his locker.

“Right,” Luca said hopefully, “We’re gonna go bar-hopping? Try and pick up some chicks?”

“Actually, I was just gonna stay home.”

He carefully avoided looking at his teammates, deciding instead to check his email on his cell phone as he left the locker room.

“Come on guys,” he heard Chris admonished, “Lay off him.”

Any argument they made in return, he didn’t stay to hear. Over the next few days, they tried a couple more times, Chris’ pleas falling on deaf ears. It didn’t bother him too much, he understood that they were just trying to help and didn’t know any other way. It was just a little hard for him to forget her when his leg still hurt whenever it rained.

“Look,” Tan said one day after Street had shut them down again, “I know a lot went down with… _ her _ but maybe finding someone new would make you feel better. Help you forget her?”

“The fact that you can’t say her name should tell you that it’s too soon,” Street said.

“What are the odds of the next girl you date being crazy too?”

“Next to none,” Street admitted, going on when Tan looked like he was going to say something, “But if you had asked me after our first date what the odds of her being insane were, I would have said the same thing.”

“We just want you to be happy again,” Luca said, “You seem lonely.”

Street sighed, “I understand you guys are just trying to help, but I’m not ready yet. I need you to respect that.”

February felt like it was dragging on, which frustrated him even more because it was supposed to be the shortest month of the year. As soon as March started though, he seemed to come out of his funk. His mood improved and the nightmares came less often. It didn’t last long though.

One night when he and Luca were walking to the market down the street from their house, he felt like they were being watched. But whenever he would turn around, nobody was there.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Luca asked after the dozenth time he looked over his shoulder.

“What?” he answered distractedly, looking back around at his friend, “Nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me, you’re checking if we’re being followed.”

“I am no-”

“I thought you got past that?” Luca asked, concern crinkling his eyebrows.

“I did too,” Street said quietly.

They made it back home safe and sound, but the prickling feeling at the back of his neck stayed with him. It bothered him enough that he brought it up to the team a few days later as they sat in the canteen eating lunch together.

“I think I’m being followed.”

Chris had been about to take a bite of her sandwich, pausing to look at him for a moment before setting it down, “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not kidding,” he answered seriously. She must have seen the anxiety in his eyes because she immediately devoted all her attention to him.

“Nobody is following you,” Hondo said firmly.

“Somebody is!” he insisted.

“Not this again, man,” Luca said, “We talked about this the other night.”

“I know we did, but I’m not being paranoid. This feels different.”

“Are you sure that’s not what this is?” Tan asked.

Street looked at his friends in disbelief, “You don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Deacon corrected, “You just stopped this paranoia a few months ago. It’s possible it can come back for a while-”

“You don’t believe me,” he said, rising from his chair and heading for the door, his lunch forgotten on the table, “It’s fine. I’ll deal with it by myself.”

“Street, wait!” Chris called after him, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn back. It was alright, he didn’t need them. He’d been getting himself out of trouble practically his entire life, he could do it again.

Later that week, it was his turn to take out the trash. The sun had gone down in a flash of classic LA burning colors, leaving the sky black with only a half-dozen visible stars. He was walking down the lawn, his back to the sidewalk as he rolled the recycling can with him. When he reached the end of the grass, he turned to push the trash can to its spot on the edge of the curb. As he turned, he found himself nearly face to face with someone standing on the sidewalk. He startled, moving backward until his back hit the trash can. He reached his hands behind him, grabbing onto it so it wouldn’t topple over. Looking up, he realized he recognized the figure on the sidewalk.

“Maya?” he asked, his voice cracking. There she was, right there on the curb, is a pair of torn skinny jeans and a pink button-up shirt, her hair pulled into a long ponytail behind her.

“Hi, baby!” she exclaimed, “Surprised to see me?”

“Definitely,” answered. She took a step toward him and he turned, getting behind the trash can to keep a shield between him and her.

“Listen, if you’re here to kill me-”

“I understand why you’d think that,” she said, her face creased into sadness, “While I was in prison, I realized that I messed up. I shouldn’t have hurt you. I really am sorry.”

“Oh, please don’t cry,” he begged when he saw tears well in her eyes.

She sniffed, bringing a hand up to wipe them away, “I let my emotions get the better of me. But I have more control over them now and we can be together.”

The hopeful look on her face was tearing at his heart. She was delusional, she had no idea that the damage she had done was irreparable, only that she had done it. The very small part of him that still loved her, the part of himself that he hated, wanted to forgive her. Wanted to help her. He knew it was stupid, but it took him a long time to open up to people and trust them and when he finally allowed himself to, he loved with every fiber of his being. Despite everything, he hadn’t been able to rid himself of that feeling as completely as he’d have liked. But the strongest emotion he felt toward her was fear, this petite woman standing in front of him was a hideous monster in his eyes and he knew he wasn’t the one who could fix her. It wasn’t in his job description.

“Uh…” he floundered, “W-what are you doing here?”

“I’m out on probation,” she responded, clapping her hands giddily in front of her, “For good behavior.”

“Oh, good. Um, good for you,” he answered, trying to figure out a way to extricate himself from the situation. Fortunately for him, Luca had perfect timing. He heard the screen door open and slam shut behind him as Luca came out onto the porch, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Maya.

“Dude, what’s taking so-”

Luca cut himself off, recognizing her even from across the lawn.

“Goodnight,” Maya said, taking that as her cue to leave, “I’ll see you around.”

Luca ran down the porch steps and across the lawn, stopping beside Street. They watched her make her way down the sidewalk, the streetlights illuminating her profile. Street looked over at his friend. His roommate at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“I’m sorr-”

He didn’t allow himself to finish, the anger on Street’s face halting him in his tracks. Street couldn’t even look him in the eye, just shaking his head slowly, a grimace plastered across his face. He left the trash can where it was, storming back to the house. Shutting the door to his room tight behind him, he paced the length of his room from the door to the window and back again. Reaching up, he ran his fingers through his hair, entwining his fingers with the strands and yanking. The pain grounded him, tethering his mind to the present before it could go spiraling into worst-case scenarios. It was a bad habit, but it served well whenever bad moments came. Not this time though as he felt his heart continue to race through his chest. All of a sudden his legs couldn't hold him anymore as he collapsed to the floor. 

He couldn’t do this by himself, he realized painfully, he had tried last time and failed. But he didn’t feel like he could rely on his team for this anymore either. They hadn’t believed him. That judge hadn’t believed him and he’d almost had his skull bashed in. In his mind, they had betrayed him. He was up the entire night trying to find a solution to his ever-present Maya problem. By the time morning came, he was no closer to figuring it out and now he had to go to work on no sleep. He carpooled to work with Luca as he did most mornings. Luca didn’t try to talk to him the whole ride, in fact, he hadn’t said a word all morning. Street was more than a little surprised, if not grateful as well. If Luca had tried to start a conversation, he’s not entirely sure how it would have gone. Judging by his roommate's face, the other man hadn’t gotten much sleep either.

When they arrived at the precinct and met the team in the bullpen, Tan was the one who greeted them with a jovial, “You guys look like hell.”

“Did something happen?” Hondo asked, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“No,” Street answered firmly, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. He’d freely admit, to himself only, that he was sulking.

“Maya showed up in front of our house,” Luca answered gravely.

The shift in the mood of the room was instant as everyone froze, dropping whatever they were doing and looking up at them.

“What?! What happened?” Chris exclaimed, crossing around the table to get a better look at Street, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“How did she get out of prison?” Deacon asked.

“Parole. Isn’t it a beautiful thing?” Street answered sarcastically.

“Alright,” Hondo said, “We’ll figure out a game plan. I’m sure visiting you was a violation of her parol-”

“Don’t we have actual work to do?”

“Street-”

“_I’ll _figure it out,” he said.

Hondo leveled him a steady look, and Street could practically see the gears turning in his head as he decided whether or not to press the issue.

“Alright,” he said eventually, “Let’s get down to it. But you and I, we’re having a conversation later.”

It was the longest day of his life after that as the hours dragged on. Fortunately, they were busy that day so and everyone put everything aside and focused on their job. He’d gotten used to not the occasional night with no sleep over the last year, he had his new-found insomnia to thank for that, so he wasn’t too tired despite the night he’d had. No doubt he’d crash later, but for now, he was good to kick some bad guy ass. If it helped him release some pent up anger, all the better.

At the end of the day, he tried to slip out into the parking lot unnoticed, but Hondo wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Street!”

He cringed when he heard his name, biting his lower lip. Spinning around on his heel, he headed back toward his boss. He noticed Chris giving him a worried look as she passed him on her way out. She’d been trying to pull him aside all day but the hectic day and Street himself hadn’t allowed it.

“You need to let us help,” Hondo said once they were alone.

“I don’t need your help.”

“I know your instinct is to push people away, but you remember that didn’t go so well last time. Right?”

“That’s not-” Street started, stopping himself and starting over, “I tried to tell you. I said I thought I was being followed again and none of you believed me. You _ know _ how important that is.”

Hondo regarded him silently for a moment, before finally sighing and shoving his hands in his pockets, “We didn’t _ not _believe. But we’ve been playing this game for months now. Every time you’ve felt like you were being followed for the last year, you’ve come to us and we told you she wasn’t there. Can you blame us for thinking that’s what we were supposed to do this time?”

“I haven’t done that for months. This is different!” Street insisted, “I told you it was different! She’s actually here!”

“I realize that now,” Hondo said, “And you’re right, I’m sorry. We should’ve have put more stock into what you were saying. But we can’t change any of that now, and it doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t deal with her alone.”

Street stared at Hondo angrily for a moment before finally breaking eye contact and staring down at his feet, scuffing his boots across the linoleum floor, “I don’t see what we’re supposed to do anyway.”

“Report her to her parole officer, for one thing. When she was convicted, they issued a restraining order. They’ll send her back to jail.”

“And what?” Street shrugged, “She’ll get out again eventually and we’ll be back where we started again.”

“It buys time. Another year at least.”

“Another year like the last one? She just undid all of the progress I’ve made, and then I’m just supposed to wait around until she eventually gets released and undoes it all again? I can’t keep doing this. And I can’t keep expecting you all to deal with me! I… I’ve become a burden.”

“We’re a team!” Hondo said firmly, “We’re here to help each other, that’s the whole point.”

Street could feel the team leader’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back up. If he did, he’d cave.

“Look,” Hondo continued, “I know the last two years have been stressful as hell. I know you want all this to just go away. The world doesn’t work like that. When there’s a mess, you just have to do your best to clean it up. You’re right, all this won’t end once she’s locked up and she might come back in a year or two. Who knows? But right now, she is the immediate problem. She’s what we need to focus on. Not some distant future that for all we know could never even happen. You can’t cross that bridge until you get to it. And it’ll go a little bit easier if you let us help you.”

“I know,” Street whispered, “I’ve just… I’ve gotten this far in life by learning how to predict what people are going to do. And with her, I can’t.”

Hondo nodded solemnly, “I get it. But we’ll figure this out. I’ll find out who her parole officer is and I’ll call them first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me,” Hondo smiled, “Now go home already. Luca’s probably waiting in the parking lot.”

As predicted, Luca was leaning against his truck, playing some game on his phone when Street got outside.

“Did he talk sense into you?” Luca asked when he heard his teammate approach, shutting off his phone and shoving it in his pocket.

“Something like that.”

“We good, man?”

An apology, Luca’s version anyway. Street couldn’t help a small smile.

“We’re good,” he nodded, an apology of his own.

“Alright!” Luca beamed, hitting his palm against the hood of his car before running around to the driver’s seat, “Let’s go home!”

Street found himself in a good mood on the drive home, despite the present circumstance, and blamed Luca for being so damn chipper. They talked like they used to, before the whole Maya mess, bickering and laughing the whole way home. It was nice. He wasn’t quite happy, he hadn’t really felt that in almost two years now, there was no room for pure joy when there was an ever-present anxiety at the back of his brain. But it was something akin to that and he’d take what he could get.

By the time Luca pulled up to the curb outside their house, Street could feel the crash from his previous sleepless night hitting hard and he was ready to just go inside and fall into bed. The other man still had plenty of energy though as he crashed through the front door.

“Duke!” he shouted, heading for the backyard to let the dog inside, “We’re back, buddy!”

He was back a moment later, sans the dog.

“Duke isn’t in the backyard!” he said, worry creasing his brow.

“What?” Street exclaimed, immediately alert again, “Did he get out?”

“I don’t know! The gate’s shut.”

“Let’s go look for him,” Street said. He pointed over Luca’s shoulder at the small table sitting behind him, “Grab his leash.”

Luca did as asked, snatching the tether up and bolting out the back door, “I’ll go this way. You got out front!”

Street turned to do as asked, already his roommate calling out for the dog from the back of the house, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he realized it was Duke’s red food bowl, sitting by the door to the kitchen as always. The difference was a small paper taped to the side. He crossed the living room, kneeling and reaching for the note, scrawled in dainty cursive penmanship.

_ Come and get him, baby. -M _

There was an address scribbled at the bottom. He shook his head angrily, crumpling up the note in his hand and throwing it to the floor. He headed out the front door, grabbing Luca’s car keys as he went. He couldn’t very well bring Duke back on his bike. Soon he pulled up outside a quaint one story in a middle-class neighborhood, about twenty minutes from his house. Parking the car at the curb, he shut off the ignition and checked his phone. He had several missed calls from Luca and took a moment to fill him in.

_I found Duke. I’ll be home in a bit._

He put his phone away before he could see any reply from Luca, placing his elbows on the steering wheel and resting his face in his hands. It just hit him that he had no idea what he was getting into. He’d been so tired and so angry when he’d seen the note that he’d just reacted, but he was thinking now that maybe he should have told Luca about the note. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here alone. It was too late now though, he thought. He sat up and punched the steering wheel before getting out of the car and slamming the door shut behind him. He walked stiffly up the lawn, a path of flat fawn-colored stones leading from the sidewalk to the front door. Once he was on the front porch, he knocked on the door. There was scuffing sound from inside and the faint sound of barking.

A moment later, the door opened to reveal Maya standing on the other side. She had dressed up for the ‘occasion’, wearing a white off-the-shoulder dress, the bodice an elastic that hugged her torso before opening into a loose skirt at her hips, ending halfway down her thighs. Her long brown hair was tied back in a messy braid, loose strands falling past her ears.

“Jimmy!” she exclaimed, red-stained lips curving upward in a beaming smile, “Come in!”

“Where’s Duke?” he answered curtly, keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground.

Her smile fell just a bit, but she quickly recovered, “He’s fine. I shut him up in the bathroom, he wouldn’t stop barking. I figured it’d be nice little treasure hunt type thing. Romantic huh?”

“Just give me the dog,” he sighed.

The old flash of anger flickered across her face, “I went through all of this trouble to set up a nice evening for us. If you want the dog, you’re going to have to have dinner with me first.”

Street looked back over his shoulder at the car, contemplating one last time whether or not he should just make an escape. Come back later with Luca. But he couldn’t risk her hurting Duke if she got angry. Even if Luca did ever manage to forgive him, he would never be able to forgive himself.

“Fine,” he agreed, “Dinner. And then I’m going home _ with _ the dog.”

“Deal,” she smiled, stepping aside and holding out an arm to gesture him inside. For a moment, she was behind him and he didn’t have eyes on her. A brief flash of regret passed through his mind when the soft thud of the door shutting sounded behind him. To get distance between them, he took the opportunity to scope out the place, making his way across the living room to glance down the hallway. It was dark, but he could see two doors, both shut, and a faint scratching sound echoed down the hall.

“Whose house is this?” he asked, turning around to face her where she still stood by the front door.

“My parents’. I’ve been crashing here since I got out,” she shrugged, taking soft steps toward him as her bare feet moved across the carpeted floor, “It’s their date night. Dinner and a movie, every Thursday for forty years. Maybe that could be us one day.”

Street glanced down at his feet briefly, crossing his arms across his chest, “Look, Maya. We need to talk.”

“No!” she shouted, her sudden loud tone causing him to jerk his head up toward her and he saw tears in her eyes, “Don- Don’t ruin this! Ok? Just one nice dinner. Just one!”

She sounded like she was in near hysterics, close to unraveling. Her delusions shattering as more and more things added up, forcing her to see the truth. Every time he pushed her away, she moved closer to her tipping point.

“Ok,” he held his hands up in surrender, “What did you make?”

Maya sniffed, bringing a hand up to wipe her eyes, “Chicken piccata.”

“Sounds delicious,” he responded through gritted teeth, hoping his discomfort wasn’t too obvious. She didn’t seem to notice, smiling once more, though her mascara was now running down her cheeks.

“Come on,” she said, waving her hand for him to follow, “The dining room is this way.”

He did as she asked, trailing behind her into the dining room. She had gone all out, decorating the table with a frilly tablecloth and two short red candles burning in glass cylinders. Dinner had already been placed at the table, and she gestured for him to sit.

“I’ll get the wine.”

“I don’t want any-”

“I’ll get the wine,” she repeated, as though he hadn’t spoken at all.

A moment later she returned with two wine glasses and a bottle, setting one down in front of it. She poured some of the wine into his glass and he watched as the burgundy liquid sloshed against the sides. She sat down in the chair on the side of the table to his right, smiling at him briefly before digging in. Part of him was worried that maybe she’d poisoned it, luring here to fulfill a murder-suicide plan. He just pushed the food around on his plate with the fork, cutting the chicken in pieces, hoping to give the appearance of him having eaten. It seemed to please her, as she only commented on him not touching his wine. He caved and sipped at the glass slowly, fairly certain that was safe as he’d watched her pour. She had been drinking from the same bottle and she’d had three glasses already.

“Was it good?” she asked once she’d finished, rising from her seat and taking the plates into the kitchen.

“Um… yeah,” he called out, “Delicious. Thank you. It’s uh, it’s getting late. I think I’ll just take Duke home now.”

“Oh,” she appeared in the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the frame, “But you haven’t had dessert yet.”

“I’m kind of full, so…” he said, getting out of his chair and heading back into the living room. She came up behind him, turning him around and pressing his palms on his chest. She pushed him until his back hit the wall, bringing her body flush up against him.

“Not that kind of desert, silly,” she said in a hushed tone, standing up on her tiptoes and kissing him, bringing her hands upward and running her fingers through his hair.

“Maya,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and attempting to push her back. She didn’t let him say much more, pressing her lips against his as she tightened her grip on his head. With more force this time, he pushed against her chest and she stumbled backward, hitting the dining room chair, causing the table to shake and the two glasses of wine to tip and spill what little was left across the table, dripping down onto the yellow carpet. She managed to catch herself on the table, but the chair went tumbling down.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, stepping to the side so he was in line with the doorway, backing away from her slowly.

“I thought…” she mumbled, straightening her back, “I thought that maybe…”

“I’m going to take Duke and I’m going to leave now.”

To his surprise, she nodded, “The first door on the right.”

He continued backing up into the living room, only turning around once he thought he was a safe distance away. He made his way down the hall, flipping the light switch as he went to illuminate the dark passageway. Once he reached the door on the right, he turned the knob and opened it to reveal a bedroom. All the lights were off, but he could see enough to know that Duke wasn’t in there.

“Where-” he started, turning back around to see where she’d gone. He must have spun too quickly because a sudden wave of dizziness came over him and he had to grab onto the door frame for support. Before he could regain his bearings, she suddenly slammed into him and he stumbled backward, landing on the bed. She ended up on top of him, her legs straddling his hips as she reached forward and grabbed hold of both his wrists, pressing them down on the bed.

“Why don’t you see it too?” she asked, and in the dark, he could see the desperation in her eyes. She leaned in closer, her lips against his ear and whispered, “I love you. I know you love me too. We belong together.”

He tried breaking her hold, but he was finding it difficult to make his muscles respond.

“I know I hurt you,” she said, a sob breaking loose from her chest, “And I’m sorry. I am so so sorry. But you had me locked up, so we- we’re even now.”

“M… Maya,” he panted, his ability to form words slowing, “W-what did… you give me?”

She lifted her head back up to look him in the eye. A tear fell from her cheek, splashing onto his chin. She grit her teeth, “It’s the only way you’ll listen.”

“Ma-”

She tightened her grip around his wrists, pressing him harder into the bed. She brought her face down to his until their noses were touching, “You just don’t _listen _sometimes. I need to make you understand.”

He turned his head to the side and away from her, fixing his eyes on the wall. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, unable to tell if it was fear or the effects of whatever drug she’d given him. She moved his wrists together above his head, so she could hold them together with one hand, bringing her now free one down to caress his cheek.

“We’ve been apart for too long. Once we’re together again, you’ll remember.”

Her hand moved down and he felt her trying to unbutton his jeans, having trouble using just one hand. He managed to break his hands-free from her grasp, summoning the energy to reach one arm out toward her, weakly pushing against her chest. It was all too easy for her to bat his hand aside, wrapping her hands around his neck and pressing her thumbs up underneath his jaw, cutting off his oxygen.

“Don’t ruin this for us,” she whispered against his mouth, “Don’t worry. You’ll understand soon.”

She held onto his throat for a moment longer, finally releasing her iron grip. As he gasped for air, she cupped his face and smashed her lips against his. He did his best to ignore the feeling of her tongue slipping into his mouth. As she continued the kiss, she reached both her hands down to yank his jeans a little lower down his hips. It was hard with her weight pressing down on him to get them all the way off, or else she decided she just didn’t need to.

Maya wiggled out of her panties, lifting her legs one at a time to slide them off, tossing them to the side once they were free. What happened next, he tried to drown out. Though it was made difficult as she panted in his ear, occasionally yanking his hair to force his head up so she could invade his mouth with her tongue again. Fighting her off proved ineffective, as he couldn’t even muster the energy to lift his hand off the bed. So he settled for sinking into the mattress as best he could, getting as much space between him and her as he possibly could.

It felt like an eternity before her breathing picked up and she started moaning in his ear. By that point, he finally felt the dizziness start to wear off, just enough for him to roll his body to the side with enough force to push her off his, sending her rolling off the mattress and onto the ground.

He was still out of it, and by the time he managed to sit up, she was out the bedroom door, slamming it shut behind her. The resounding bang caused Duke, wherever he was to start barking again.

“Maya,” he called out, his voice weak. He tried to stand, his knees collapsing under him and he fell, managing to catch himself on the bed before he could slam into the floor.

“Jimmy,” her voice sounded from the other side of the door, “I told you! You’d understand if you just let me-”

“Let you what? What do you call that?” he answered, pulling his jeans back up and buttoning them. He stumbled across the room to the door, trying the handle and finding it stuck. She must’ve been holding it from the other side. He let out an exhausted sigh, resting his forearm against the door and collapsing onto it, pressing his forehead into his arm.

“We could make this work!” he heard her sob, and she must have punched the door because he felt the wooden slab shake with the force.

“Make what work, Maya?” he said tiredly, “Does this look like the picture of a healthy relationship to you?”

She was quiet for a long time and he began to think maybe she’d left, but when he tried the handle it was still stuck.

“It can be if you only give it a chance. I know we can be happy! We used to be!”

“We were never happy, Maya. That’s why you threw me down a flight of stairs and I had you arrested, remember?”

“But, I-”

“Please,” he begged, “Just let me out.”

“N-no! Not until you listen to me!”

“I’ll just go out the window.”

“If you do, I’ll… I’ll kill the dog!”

“You’re not gonna kill the dog,” he answered. After another eternity of silence, the handle turned and she opened the door. He stumbled forward, his weight following after it but he managed to stick his hand out in time to catch himself on the opposite side of the hallway. Duke was still barking, the sound coming from the doorway directly across from the bedroom.

“What did you give me?” he asked, resting against the wall for a moment.

“Rohypnol,” she whispered from where she stood a few feet down the hall, her hands clasped nervously in front of her and her face red and blotchy, “I figured you’d be suspicious of me, so I put the powder in the bottom of the empty glass.”

He nodded, glancing up at her out of the corner of his eye before fixing his eyes on the bathroom door. As he reached for it, she moved toward him suddenly.

“Jimmy, wait!” she pleaded, grabbing onto his hand where it gripped the knob. He jerked back as soon as her skin touched his. She noticed, her breath hitching. “J-just tell me. Tell me I’m crazy. Say you don’t love me, that you never loved me, and you’ll never see me again. I’ll leave you alone. I w-won’t call you. I won’t b-bother you again. Just tell me! Look me in the eye and tell me you never loved me!”

She could barely get the words out, having trouble breathing around her sobs. Tears were rolling down his own cheeks by this point, and he just wanted this night, this whole era of his life to be over. He stood firmly in place, looking her dead in the eye.

“I never loved you.”

The breath seemed to be knocked out of her as she staggered backward, clutching her hand to her chest. Black streaks ran down her red cheeks as her mascara and eyeliner ran completely off her face. Her chest heaved as she struggled for breath. They stood there for a moment, staring each other down before she finally nodded, a grief-stricken look across her face. She backed out of the way, allowing him to finally open the bathroom door. Duke came surging out, running directly up to Maya and barking at her.

“Come on, boy,” Street said, leaning forward and grabbing the dog’s collar, “Leave her alone.”

He pulled the dog toward the front door, opening it and leading him outside. He paused only briefly in the doorway to look back over his shoulder at her, their eyes meeting one last time.

“Goodbye, Jimmy,” she said breathlessly.

He turned away, shutting the door behind him. He opened the backdoor to Luca’s car, patting the seat so Duke would jump up. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat, locking the doors once he was inside. He pulled out his phone, seeing over a hundred missed calls over the last two hours. Apparently, when Luca couldn’t find him, he’d called the others because every single member of his team had called him multiple times. It occurred to him that maybe he wasn’t in any position to drive, given that the Rohypnol probably hadn’t completely worn off, but he wasn’t about to sit outside Maya’s house for an uncertain amount of time while he waited for someone to pick him up either.

Street managed not to get in any accidents on his way back to the house. He pulled up to the curb outside, noting everyone’s cars parked in varying places along the road. Right as he was opening the back door to let Duke out, he heard the screen door slam on their porch.

“Street!”

That was Chris’ voice. She came running down the porch steps and across the lawn, crashing into him and wrapping her arms around him in a vice-like grip. The others must have heard her because a moment later they were all running towards them.

“We thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!” Tan shouted, “What the hell happened?!”

“I found the dog,” he said quietly, pushing Chris gently away from him and pointing at Duke. The animal in question had been sniffing a fire hydrant when he’d jumped out of the car, but now came trotting over to greet Luca.

“Are you alright?” Deacon asked, “You look like hell.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, pushing past the small group that had formed around him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Hold on a second,” Hondo said, reaching out to grab his arm. Street spun around and shoved the other man’s hand off him. He didn’t miss the concerned looks that flashed across each other their faces.

“I said I’m fine!” he said frantically, “You can all go home now!’

Before anyone could have the chance to try anything again, he trudged up the lawn and disappeared into the house. Thankfully, he didn’t hear any footsteps following him. He went into his room and slammed the door shut behind him, and turning off his light so Luca would hopefully believe he’d gone to bed. But even though he hadn’t slept in over thirty-six hours now and the sedative still coursing through his system, despite the tiredness that had settled in his entire body, despite the feeling that every ounce of energy felt like it had been suctioned out of him, he didn’t sleep a wink that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for your reading pleasure! You may notice, I changed the expected amount of chapters from two to three. This is because I realized I am an arrogant fool and I can't fit everything I want into one exceedingly long chapter. XD  
Enjoi!  
P.S.: Trigger warning still applies. I've updated the tags.

At some point in the night, Duke had started scratching at his door. Luca opened it to let the dog in, shutting it again once he was inside. Duke came trotting over to him, pawing at the edge of the bed. Street sighed and pat the mattress beside him, and Duke jumped up and laid down next to him, resting his chin on the man’s chest. He reached over to stroke the dog’s fur, keeping his eyes fixed on the ceiling. They stayed like that until the sun’s orange hues rose through the window, lighting up the dark room. The alarm he had set on his phone went off and he forced himself to get out of bed.

He took a quick shower and got dressed before heading out into the living room, Duke close at his heel. Luca was already in the kitchen, making his lunch.

“I left some eggs for you,” Luca said as Street entered the room, pointing at a pan sitting on the cooling stove.

“I’m not hungry,” he responded, opening the cupboard and grabbing on the to-go lunches they kept, shoving it in his bag.

“You gonna tell me what happened last night?” Luca asked, not looking up from the sandwich he was making.

“Nothing to tell. I was looking for Duke.”

“Yea, you said that. You also said you found him and then you were gone for hours.”

Street shrugged, zipping up his pack. He pat Duke’s head where he sat by his feet and headed for the door.

“You know,” Luca said, causing Street to pause in the doorway, “I don’t believe for a second that all you did was look for Duke. But whether or not you’re telling the truth, you can’t just disappear like that. Not with Maya out there. You scared the crap out of us.”

Street glanced back over his shoulder as Luca finally looked up from his sandwich. He held his friend’s gaze for a moment before he had to look away.

“Hurry up, we’re going to be late.”

“Right,” he heard Luca grumble as he went into the living room.

Duke whined when they left and tried to follow them out the door. It was odd behavior for him and Luca made a confused face. He felt about the dog’s ordeal yesterday, so Luca let him stay inside today rather than out in the yard.

Once they reached the precinct and got to the locker room, he felt his team’s eyes on him, though they didn’t say anything. He had his bag sitting on the bench, digging through it, when he saw Chris’ legs out of the corner of his eye. He stopped to tilt his head up and look at her. She looked upset, more so than he’d seen her in a long time. Her arms crossed over her chest and her nostrils flared.

“You look like hell,” she said.

“Thanks.”

He knew he did, he’d seen it in the mirror this morning. Dark rings were forming under his eyes, he hadn’t slept for two days now after all. He hadn’t even bothered to brush his hair this morning. Food hadn’t been a priority the last two days either and he’d developed a killer headache in the middle of the night that hadn’t gone away yet, probably some form a Rohypnol hangover. If his appearance was nearly as bad as he felt, he must have looked ready to drop.

“Where were you?” she asked. He didn’t answer immediately, so she continued, “We all dropped what we were doing last night to come and look for you. We wandered around the city for hours to find you. I thought you were dead! And you seriously expect us to believe that you were out looking for the dog that whole time?”

There were tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill, and it tore at his already cracking heart. He tried to put himself in her position, reverse their roles. She was his best friend, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be out looking for her for hours, no idea if she was alive or dead. He thought back to the time she’d gone undercover in Mexico with Captain Cortez. He was terrified the entire time she’d been gone, unable to focus on anything else. And he’d done that to her. To all of them.

He opened his mouth, although he wasn’t quite sure what he planned to say. He’d never know since Hondo’s phone rang at that exact moment. Everyone went back to what they were doing, pretending like they hadn’t just been enthralled in the conversation that was happening.

“This is Hondo,” he said, pressing his phone to his ear, “Hi, Mirna. Thanks for returning my call.”

Street looked over in time to see Hondo’s face fall, a grave expression plastering itself across him.

“I see. Thank you.”

Hondo hung up, placing the device back in his pocket.

“What is it, boss?” Tan asked, noting Hondo’s new demeanor as well.

“That was Maya’s parole officer,” he answered, looking at Stree as he crossed the room to stand in front of him, “Sit down for a second.”

Street laughed nervously, “Why?”

“Maya died last night.”

The air in his lungs was knocked out him as his knees buckled and he fell onto the bench. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself, leaning forward for a moment to cover his face with his hands, before sniffing and running his fingers through his hair. He heard Chris whisper, “Oh my God.”

“What…” he asked, sitting up and looking to his boss, “What happened?”

“Her parents found her in the kitchen. She killed herself.”

He slammed his fist on the bench beside him, standing up and pacing toward the door. He turned around when he reached it, tangling his hands together and yanking on his fingers. He didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about this. A mix of emotions was swirling around in his head, each one battling for dominance. Relief, he sickly realized. She couldn’t hurt him anymore. But it made him feel like a monster that he was glad somebody was dead. Grief. A woman he loved once was dead. But guilt, guilt was the winner. She was gone because she’d loved him, and he’d turned her away.

“This is all my fault,” he said desperately.

“It is not your fault,” Chris said, moving toward him and grabbing his hands to separate them, “We knew she had problems, okay? You can’t fix them.”

“You  _ were _ with her last night, weren’t you?” Deacon asked.

Street pulled his hands out of Chris’, stepping back from her. He looked at each of his teammates, each of them waiting for the answer. The effort it took to face them became too much so he turned away, pressing his hands over his face.

“Please stop asking that,” he begged.

He heard footsteps approaching, so he let his hands drop down to his sides. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hondo make an aborted motion to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“I think you should take the day off. Go home.”

“No, I’m good.”

“It’s not about that. You’ve had a lot going on the last few days and it doesn’t look like you’ve been sleeping. I wouldn’t expect anyone on my team to be here right now and be able to focus. Go home and get some rest.”

Street looked up at Hondo before nodding silently. He smiled briefly, though he sure it looked more grim than grateful, and went to grab his bag where it still sat on the bench and head out into the hallway. He was nearing the front entrance when his phone rang.

“Hello?” he asked, as he pressed the device to his ear.

“Is this Officer Street?” a male voice asked from the other line.

“Speaking.”

“This is Detective Ranft. Do you know Maya Vanbrock?”

“I do.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this but Miss Vanbrock took her own life last night. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions. It should only take a few minutes. I’m told we even work in the same building.”

“Why?”

“Well, as you know, we treat each suicide as a homicide. I just have to dot some ‘i’s and cross some ‘t’s.”

“Alright, I’ll be right there,” he said before hanging up and turning around to go back inside. Gina, the girl at the front desk, helped him find Detective Ranft at his desk. He was an aging, short man with a round belly and a salt and pepper beard, and what looked like a permanent smile plastered on his face. No doubt a skill he’d developed over years of police work to put people at ease.

“Officer Street!” the detective said, rising from his chair to shake the other man’s hand, “Please, take a seat.”

There was a chair sitting beside the detective’s desk. Street pulled it out and sat down as Ranft did the same.

“No pressure or anything,” the older man smiled, “I just need some details so I can close this thing.”

“Alright,” Street said, “How, um… how did she do it?”

“Slit her wrists with a box cutter,” Ranft said sympathetically, though Street thought he heard something else beneath that tone. “Miss Vanbrock is your ex-girlfriend, correct?”

“Yes, we dated for a few months.”

“Did you visit her parents’ house last night?”

Street nodded.

“Why was that?”

“She invited me.”

“She invited you?” he asked, “And you went?”

“Uh… yea? Is there something else you’re trying to ask me?”

The detective held his hands up in surrender, “I’m not trying to play any games. It just doesn’t make sense to me. You two seem to have an interesting relationship. She takes out a restraining order against you, then files sexual assault charges. Then a few months later, she sends you to the hospital after coming at you with a baseball bat and spends a year in prison? And after all that, she invited you over to her parents’ house and you just… showed up?”

“Well, she had my roommate’s dog, Duke.”

“Duke. Cute name,” Ranft chuckled, writing something down on his notepad, “That explains the dog hair we found in the bathroom. Can you just explain to me what happened last night?“

He gave an abridged explanation, omitting the more personal details. Maya had kidnapped Duke and told him where to meet her, so he had gone. They’d had dinner and then he’d taken Duke home.

“Did she seem despondent or upset in any way?”

Street sighed, “She was, yea. She has this delusion that we belong together and I think she finally realized that’s all it was. I had to tell her that it could never happen, but I never thought she’d hurt herself.”

“I see. Her finally seeing the truth was probably too much to bear,” Ranft said thoughtfully, scratching his chin with his left hand, “Alright, I think that’s everything. Thank you for your time. Here, she left this for you. Her note.”

He handed Street a plastic evidence bag with a note inside, a piece of lined papers folded into thirds with his name scrawled across in Maya’s unmistakable cursive. He took it stiffly, his hand crinkling it as he closed his fist around it.

“Thank you,” he said coldly, turning on his heel and leaving. He realized he’d carpooled here with Luca and rather than call an Uber right away, he somehow ended up in the kitchen. Fortunately, it was still early enough in the morning that the room was empty and he could be alone for a minute. He sat on one of the stools at the tall table, staring at the letter as he laid it on the table and debated whether or not he should read it. There were too many conflicting feelings invading his thoughts. On the one hand, he never wanted to so much as touch anything she had ever again. He wanted to be rid of her once and for all. He wanted all of this to just go away. But he couldn’t just throw away her suicide note, the last thing she had ever wanted anyone to hear. He gave a frustrated sigh, folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them. He was so exhausted he very nearly felt like he could just fall asleep right there.

“Street?”

He lifted his head to see Chris standing just over his left shoulder, “I swear to God, if you ask me about last night, I’m gonna lose it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she said, taking the seat next to him. “I thought you went home.”

“I had some stuff I had to do. I’m leaving in a minute.”

She looked down at the table and slid the letter closer to her with her index finger, “Her note?”

Street nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the paper.

“Have you read it?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, “I’m scared of what it’ll say.”

“Why?

“I’m afraid that… she’ll blame me. I mean, it’s my fault. I know it is, but I don’t think I’ll be able to stomach it if she believed that too.”

“Why are you so adamant that it was your fault?” Chris asked softly, “I want to understand.”

He looked up at Chris then, her earnest eyes, her kind face and he knew he could trust her.

“Last night… I met Maya. She took Duke so I’d come and get him. We had dinner and she-” he stopped himself, looking back down at his folded hands on the table. He couldn’t share that part. “We got in a fight. She was starting to unravel. I think me pushing her away finally got through to her. She said that if I told her she was wrong, then I’d never see her again. I told her I never loved her.”

“So?”

“So, I lied,” Street admitted, looking up into Chris’ eyes, “And now she’s dead.”

The conversation lapsed as Chris took in the information.

“I did love her once. A part of me still does,” Street said eventually, letting out a cynical laugh, “And that’s the crazy part, right? I’m the crazy one. After everything she did, I hate her so much. But, she’s the only serious girlfriend I’ve ever had and… I love her.”

Chris grabbed onto one of his hands, drawing his attention back to her, “You’re not crazy. Emotions don’t make sense sometimes. You can feel conflicting emotions towards somebody and just because she’s hurt doesn’t mean the good ones will just go away. The important part is that you know she was dangerous and you kept your distance.”

“I just…” he said, staring at their entwined hands, “I keep thinking that maybe if I hadn’t said what I did, she’d be alive right now. I’ve never seen her so upset, I could tell that she was falling apart and I just left her there. Somebody is dead, somebody I used to care about is dead because of my actions.”

“Street, there’s… there’s a fine line between helping someone and hurting yourself. Just look at what she’s done to you, it wasn’t healthy for you to be around her. You couldn’t help her. You couldn’t change anything. She had her own issues that really had nothing to do with you and in the end, she couldn’t handle her delusions crumbling. It’s sad and it’s awful, but that’s all it was.”

“I know you’re right,” he whispered.

“I’m always right,” she chuckled, lapsing into silence for a moment before she slid the letter back to him, “I think you should read it.”

He picked it up in his hands, “Will you sit with me?”

“Always.”

He took a deep breath and removed the note from the evidence bag. Slowly, he unfolded the piece of paper and set the bag aside. He held it firmly between both his hands, his fingers forming creases in the edges.

_ Jimmy, _

_ Sorry isn’t enough. The things I did to you are unforgivable. I understand that now. And tonight… I was only trying to fix things, but I’ve made everything worse for the both of us. I crossed a line. One of many, it would seem. The worst part is, I can’t promise it won’t happen again. I don’t trust myself. _

_ I see now that you can’t live with me and all that year in prison taught me is that I can’t live without you. I know you never loved me and that’s okay. Really. But I love you more than anything in this world and the next. I would gladly do this for you if it will make your life at least a little easier. _

_ I think that you’ll be happier. _

_ I want you to be happier. _

_ Maya _

A tear slipped from his eye, sliding down his cheek until it finally broke free on his chin and fell to the paper in his hands, smudging the ink where she had carefully scrawled her name. His hands were trembling and the headache he’d been nursing all morning intensified.

“She did it for me,” he whispered. A rushing sound in his ears started to play, like a river running through his brain and all of a sudden everything was too much. He pushed his chair backward, the feet scraping across the tile floor, and dropped the letter on the table. “I’ve got to go.”

He called an Uber and made it home. If the driver noticed that something was bothering him, he didn’t say anything. Once he was inside, he slammed the door behind him. Duke came to greet him but was ignored as Street dropped his bag onto the floor. He paced the room, chewing on his thumbnail.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” he shouted, “She killed herself so I’d feel better? What kind of bullshit!”

He reached out and knocked the junk on the coffee table onto the ground, a crashing sound echoing through the room. Duke yiped, backing up into the corner by the television.

“She comes here and she does all this damage! She rips away everything I’ve worked for over the last  _ year _ . Shatters it! She… She… And then she slits her own wrists? For  _ me? _ Who the hell does she think she is to put that on me? Does she not understand that she was tormenting me even from prison? It never ends! Her killing herself doesn’t fix anything!”

His vision was clouding with tears, the room around him only a blur. A sob broke free from his chest as he backed up slowly, feeling his back thunk into the wall. He leaned his weight into it, sliding to the ground.

“I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.”

Duke tentatively came forward from his hiding spot, his head ducked low and his tail between his legs. He approached Street slowly, tilting his head. When he deemed it safe, he sat on his haunches and placed his paws onto Street’s left shoulder, licking the tears from his face. Once he was finished, he laid down across Street’s lap, his tail wagging back and forth across the ground.

“You’re a good boy,” Street said, scratching the dog’s ears.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but eventually, it became uncomfortable and his back started to ache. He gently patted Duke’s side and the dog got off him. He moved to the couch, resting his head back against the backing. Picking up the remote, he turned it on. Not to watch anything in particular, just to get rid of the overwhelming silence. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore and he drifted off to sleep.

_ “You don’t listen!” _

_ She was screaming in his ear. Her grip on his wrists was burning and he struggled for breath as her weight on his chest sank further and further down to crush him. _

_ “It’s the only way you’ll listen!” _

_ Her hands came up to wrap around his throat, squeezing harder until his ability to breathe was completely cut off. _

_ “Maya, please…” he tried to say, but he couldn’t get the words out past her iron grip. _

_ “You’ll understand. I’ll make you understand!” _

_ Her hands started sliding lower… _

He sat up suddenly, gasping for breath. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he could have sworn it would break free any moment. The sun had gone down while he was sleeping and the room was dark and quiet. He noticed a light on over his shoulder and turned around to see it was coming from the kitchen, Luca standing frozen in the doorway. Street turned his head back around, leaning his elbows on his knees so he could bury his face in his hands. There was a shuffling sound and then light filtered in past his hands. He felt the couch dip beside him.

“I thought maybe I should just let you sleep. Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Street mumbled into his hands.

“I found this on the floor.”

He looked up to see Luca’s hand held out flat in front of him, a small piece of paper resting on his palm. The note Maya had left on Duke’s bowl.

“I know that’s where you were last night, so you can stop bullshitting me now.”

“Luca-”

“No. It’s my turn. You need to consider that these last few years have been hard on all of us. We all care about you and seeing you in so much pain hurts us too. And last night… you scared the shit out of us. Maya was back and you just disappeared. Now you’re acting… I don’t even know. I’ve never seen you this freaked out, not even last year. And the worst part is that you won’t even talk to me. We’re friends. We helped last time, right?”

Street couldn’t think of how to respond right away, staring down at his hands where he’d clasped them in his lap. He heard Luca sigh.

“I just wish you would trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t,” Street said finally, looking up into his friend’s sad eyes, “It doesn’t matter now. She’s gone.”

“So that’s what people have nightmares about? Things that don’t matter?” Luca asked, “I mean, is that how things work now? Everything someone did to hurt you just goes away when they die? You feel a hundred percent better now?”

“Yea, I’m peachy,” he answered sarcastically.

“Alright,” Luca said, rising from his spot on the couch, “Fine. You don’t have to talk to me. But at least go see Doctor Wendy? I don’t like the idea of you dealing with this alone.”

“Wait,” Street called as Luca began to walk away, “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just that a lot has happened since she showed up on our lawn. It’s a lot to take in. I know it’s only been two days, but it feels like an eternity. And I’m having trouble processing everything. She’s gone… but she’s still here.”

“I get it,” Luca said, coming to stand behind the couch, “If you’re not ready to talk, I understand. But if you ever feel like you need to, I’m here.”

“Thank you,” he smiled.

“Now hurry up,” Luca said, heading into the kitchen, “I was making dinner. And don’t you dare say you’re not hungry.”

He wasn’t though, but he’d eat for Luca’s sake. Guilt was a popular emotion these days it seemed as he just kept finding more and more reasons to feel like he’d hurt somebody. His entire team was worrying over  _ him _ , all because he couldn’t talk to them. There was nothing he could do to relieve that guilt, because once they knew they’d still be worried, just for a different reason. Spilling his guts wouldn’t help anything. If anything, it would take that shame he felt on the inside and spill it out for the world to see.

And Luca. Luca meant well, but whatever Street told him would be brought to Hondo and he couldn’t have that. His teammate would mean well, either wanting advice on how he could help or hoping to alleviate some of the worries the others were harboring. He’d never been the kind of person to stand by and watch others suffer, not if he could do something about it. But either way, his secret would be out there.

No, his team knew too much already. About him, about his life. About what happened between him and Maya over the years. If Maya had taught him anything, it was that allowing people to know you was dangerous. He’d learned that young, he’d just forgotten since he’d joined his team. Since he’d found a family. That lapse in judgment was what allowed  _ her _ to sliver her way into his heart. Never again. He’d trust his team with his life in the field, but anything beyond that was too far. He’d take what happened that night to his grave, just like Maya had.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The finale! I've been working on this for hours every day this week because I want it to be perfect. I really hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think of the ending in the comments!

To his surprise, he felt much better the next day. Perhaps Hondo had been right and he’d just needed some sleep. Emotionally he still felt exhausted but being physically rested definitely made a difference. And being back at work and having a mission to focus on was the perfect distraction. He only thought about Maya and, by extension, that night during the slow moments. Chris caught him zoning out once in the locker room, sitting on the bench and absentmindedly chewing on his nails. She hadn’t commented, just snapped him out of it and been on her way, but he knew that wouldn’t be forgotten anytime soon.

About halfway through the day as the team was walking down the hallway, just having finished stopping a home invasion, Doctor Wendy found him and asked if they could ‘chat real quick’. The others kept walking, Hondo glancing back briefly with a knowing look.

“I should have been expecting you,” Street said.

“You mean you weren’t?” Wendy chuckled. The pair moved out of the flow of traffic, back toward the wall at the bottom of the stairwell.

“Who ratted me out?”

“A few people, actually.”

“Hondo?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that. I’m not a snitch.”

“That means Hondo,” he smiled.

“They’re worried about you,” Wendy said.

“Well, you can go ahead and tell them that they shouldn’t be.”  
“They told me the basics of what’s been going on and I don’t think I can. They all seem to think you need someone to talk to.”

“I mean this in the nicest possible way but I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I know you well enough to know that,” she said fondly, “That’s why I found you this.”

She reached into the accordion file holder that she had cradled in her elbow and pulled out a small pamphlet, passing it to him. The front flap had a stock photo of a young man and woman sitting outside a cafe and smiling over a cup of coffee. Across the top, in big white block letters, it read ‘New Horizons Counseling’.

“Are you serious?” he asked disbelievingly, “A support group?”

“I think they’ll help.”

“If I don’t want to talk to you, what makes you think I’ll want to talk to a group of strangers?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wendy hummed, “Maybe the fact that they’ve all been in similar situations. They’ll probably understand just a bit better than your friends or even I could.”

He looked back down at the pamphlet, turning it over in his hand.

“They have a meeting right around the time you get off work today if I remember correctly,” she continued, a friendly conspiratory tone shading her voice. She gave him a minute to finish reading the paragraph on the back page. “You don’t have to go. Just think about it. It might be worth giving it a try.”

“I will,” he said after a moment, looking up to give her a small smile, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she said, patting him on the back, “I’ll see you later.”

He gave the pamphlet one last look before folding it in half and shoving it in his back pocket. The rest of the day went by quickly. Nothing remarkable. Between tasks he found himself thinking back to the piece of paper in his pocket. He inherently didn’t trust therapy, the very idea of spilling his guts to someone he didn’t even know sickened him. But he did trust her. And she knew enough to know that asking him to speak with her would have gone nowhere. Maybe, just maybe, she had a point. He just didn’t think it was something he’d be able to make himself do.

The time finally came for the workday to end and, for the first time in a long time, the team all walked out to the parking lot together. Tan was at the back of the group, bickering with Rocker about something. Keeping the rivalry between teams alive. Rocker reached his car first and waved goodbye. When they were nearing the back of the lot, Street heard a commotion just a few feet away.

“What did you do to my daughter?” someone was shouting, and he looked up just in time to see a woman rushing toward him. He stepped backward but before she could even reach him, Hondo stepped between them, holding his hands up placatingly.

“Whoa, hey. What’s going on here?”

The woman was in her early sixties, the brown hair on her head mostly turned to grey. There was a tall man with a five o’clock shadow who appeared to be about the same age standing just behind her, trying to hold her back. It took Street a moment, but he recognized them. He’d met them once before.

“Margo! Honey, let’s go,” the man pleaded, holding on tightly to his wife’s arm in case she tried surging forward again. She ignored him, attempting to shove past Hondo. He was significantly bigger than she was so she didn’t get very far, but she wiggled past enough that she could see Street again.

“What did you do to my daughter? Huh?” she growled, yanking her arm loose from her husband’s grasp. “You were at our house that night. I know you were!”

“Ma’am, I need you to settle down,” Hondo said calmly, in a vain attempt to diffuse the situation.

She turned to Hondo, shoving him away from her. He couldn’t actually grab her and now that she was free from her husband, she marched the last few steps toward Street. He held his ground, his eyes transfixed on her grief-stricken face. Chris stepped forward till she was right beside him, ready in case the woman tried anything.

“The police found Rohypnol in our kitchen. You hurt her!” the woman seethed, “And now she’s dead!”

He suddenly felt the eyes of his teammates on him, burning in the back of his head. His eyes flickered up to Hondo’s face for just a second before he couldn’t hold it anymore and brought his gaze back down to the woman in front of him.

“She was a good girl! She’d never hurt a fly!” Margo said, her mascara beginning to run, “Until she met you. You ruined her.”

The man, Street remembered his name being Harry, came forward then, grabbing hold of his wife’s elbow once more. “Let’s get out of here, please. Before we get arrested for assaulting police officers in front of the _ station _.”

Margo struggled for a minute before her energy visibly faded. She shut her eyes and nodded, allowing her husband to turn her back toward their car

“I am so sorry,” Harry said once she’d gone, looking at Street imploringly, “She didn’t mean it. She’s… she’s just upset. I tried to stop her from coming down here, but she wouldn’t listen. I thought it best not to let her go alone at least.”

“It’s okay,” Street answered hoarsely, forcing a small smile for the tired man.

“Oh, thank yo-”

“But,” Hondo interrupted, “He better not see your wife again. Got me?”

Harry nodded, “Of course. Well, I… I better get back to her.”

Once the couple had gone, he felt his teammates’ attention on him again. Hondo was the only one in his line of sight, and the grim look on his face meant he was planning on having a serious conversation right there in the parking lot. The nervous energy radiating off of Chris from where she stood behind him did not help matters. He had never been more thankful that Luca had wanted to arrive early to work today to clean out Black Betty. That meant he’d driven his motorcycle.

He heard an inhale of breath from behind him, someone getting ready to speak. He was running out of time.

“Hey, so I actually had some stuff I needed to do,” he said suddenly, walking swiftly away from the group. He refused to look back, waving over his shoulder. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

He hadn’t intended to when he left the precinct, but he found himself outside the community center where the New Horizons meeting was being held. He wandered through the halls for a bit until he found the right room. The group had commandeered the basketball court and set up a ring of about fifteen folding metal chairs in the middle of it. There was a snack table off to the side with one of those office space airpots to pump coffee and some paper plates beside a tray of bagels and assorted tidbits. He lingered in the door for a moment, watching the people milling by the snack bar or lounging in their seats already and debating with himself whether or not to go inside. It did not go unnoticed that most of the attendees were women. His mind was made up for him when someone tried to enter behind him and he had to step further into the room to get out of the way.

Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over to the snack table. A young woman with purple hair and a silver nose ring was filling her plate with just crackers when he approached. She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye, narrowing them slightly.

“What are you doing here?” she asked disdainfully after she finally looked up at him, chewing loudly on a piece of gum.

“Um… I-”

“Well, whatever it is you think you’re gonna try-”  
“Leave him bet, Olivia,” another woman said, walking up to the snack table, “The meeting’s about to start. Why not go find a seat before they’re gone.”

“Whatever,” Olivia scoffed, grabbing her plate and heading toward the group but not before giving him one last distrusting look.

“Forgive her. She’s just a bit wary of men, right now. But she means well,” the other woman smiled sweetly, holding out her hand, “I’m Cora. What’s your name?”

“Uh, Jim,” he answered slowly, shaking the proffered hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jim,” she beamed. Cora was a charming young woman about the same age as him, with long, straight blonde hair swept back behind her ears and apple green eyes. Her face was covered in freckles, he noticed, maps of constellations on her face.

“I think I should go,” he said, backing up a few steps, “I don’t know why I came here.”

“I do,” she called as he started to turn away, “You came here for help, right?”

He stopped, slowly turning back around to face her. He nodded apprehensively.

“Well, I want to make sure you get it,” she said earnestly, “Please, stay.”

Street regarded her with a faint smile. The sincerity written on her face, the promise of no judgment, of a safe space. It was all imploring him to stay. She didn’t even know him, yet she wanted to help. And really, it was good that she was a stranger, that they all were. They didn’t have any preconceived notions of who he was or what he was supposed to be. Perhaps Doctor Wendy had been right, the anonymity helped.

“Alright,” he agreed.

She clapped her hands happily in front of her, “Yay! Come on, we’re starting in a minute.”

Cora walked toward the center of the gym and he followed, taking the seat closest to the door. A moment later, the meeting started and the last few people who had been milling around took their seats. Cora, it turned out, was the one leading the group.

“Good evening, everyone. So great to see you all here again, and our new faces we have here to tonight. We’re going to get to shares in a minute, but first I’d like everyone to take a second to think about something they’re grateful for. Something _ good _ that’s happened recently. No matter how small.”

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, her nose scrunching as she concentrated. Most of the others, including the other three men, followed suit. Street noticed that he and Olivia were the only ones not to. She was slouching in her chair, munching on her crackers. He focused in on the basketball hoop, trying to think of something, anything, good in recent memory. He knew there had to be something. While the last year had been difficult, it wasn’t like he’d been sulking in a pit of eternal despair.

The first thing that came to mind was Duke, sitting beside him because he knew that Street needed it. And his team, of course, doing the same in their own way. It was funny, he thought, that he could accept that comfort from a dog but not from his human friends.

Cora gave everyone a minute before she looked up again and called everyone’s attention back, “Alright, anyone have anything they’d like to share?”

The floor was given to whoever volunteered. It was an eye-opener, he’d even say a little comforting if not for how awful it was, hearing everyone’s stories that were a lot like his. He felt just a little less alone. Olivia, as it turns out, had a blind date go wrong when the guy had seen more for them than she had. He’d hounded her every move for three months before he was arrested for killing his ex-wife. One of the other men regretted a one night stand. He got mysterious phone calls for eight months afterward until the woman eventually broke into his apartment with a shotgun. Eventually, it came back around for Cora to share.

“Charlotte turns five this weekend!” she beamed, her face falling slightly as she continued, “She’s old enough to start asking why she doesn’t have a daddy. The subject is easily avoidable now, but I just keep thinking, what about when she’s older? How will I tell her? Oh, Charlotte, darling, your dad’s in jail and he’s never getting out. And what about when she learns to ask why she doesn’t have grandparents like all her friends do either? How do I tell her that her father killed them?”

She pressed her palms onto her jeans, running them down her thighs in an attempt to dissipate nervous energy.

“It doesn’t help that… every time I look at her, I see him. She has his eyes. I think that’s what I hate him for the most, he took the innocence in my baby girl’s face away.” Cora took a deep breath, her steady smile back on her face by the time she looked back up to the group, “I guess it’s important to look at the blessings. Charlotte is five! Three years ago, I was afraid for her life and now I’m throwing her a Sesame Street themed party this weekend. She’s gonna have the chance to grow up and be happy. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

Everyone was silent, waiting for someone else to take the chance to speak.

“Anyone else?” Cora offered, “Jim? Would you like to share?”

“Um, I’m good. Thanks,” he said, forcing a thin smile.

“Are you sure? It looks like you have something on your mind. What brought you here? Why today?”

He was ready to shut her down again, but when he thought about it, he thought it might be worth the risk to open up just a little. At this point, he didn’t think he could feel any worse so he didn’t have much to lose.

“My, uh… my ex-girlfriend killed herself a couple of days ago. And I guess I blame myself.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I told her I never loved her. It was a lie, but she’d been tormenting me for two years and I just wanted everything to be over. I thought… I thought maybe she’d leave me alone finally. She had just- Well, she’d just crossed a line and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I didn’t see how close she was to breaking. I just wanted out.”

“Nobody can fault you for that, Jim,” Cora said, “And nobody can fault you for issues that _ she _had.”

Nobody else had any shares for the evening, so Cora dismissed the meeting with a promise to see everyone next week. As he was walking toward the door, she caught up with him.

“So, what’d you think?” she asked.

“It was nice. I mean, it was sad hearing all that.”

“But you feel less alone now?”

He looked down at her, “Yea. A little.”

“Well, here,” she reached into her purse and pulled out a tiny notepad and a pen, scribbling on one of the pages. She tore it out and handed it to him. “My number. In case you ever need to talk. I know what it’s like to be alone.”

“Thanks,” he answered softly, putting the paper in his pocket, “Here, let me walk you to your car.”

They headed down the hallway together, toward the parking lot outside. The sun had gone down during the meeting and the sky was speckled with LA’s few and far-between stars in the black night sky.

“You run the group right?” he asked, “How’d you get into that?”

She hummed thoughtfully, “It makes me feel better. I was in an unhappy marriage and when I filed for divorce… let’s just say he didn’t take it well. He tried to take Charlotte and he killed both of my parents in the process. And after everything was over, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I ended up in this online chat group and just talking to other people who’d experienced the same crap made me feel better. I mean, I’m a nurse, not a therapist. But I run this group in my free time. It’s a good place for everyone to unwind and let their worries out.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” he said earnestly.

“Thank you,” she chuckled, “What about you, Jim? What do you do?”

“I’m with LAPD S.W.A.T.”

“No way! That’s badass!”

“I try to be more humble about it, but I suppose I am kind of badass.”

Cora snorted as she laughed, “I see it now. Yes, so humble!”

“I mean, it’s not exactly part of the job requirements, so…”

“Good, or else you might be in trouble. Oh, this is me.” They came up to a white sedan and she stopped beside it, fishing in her purse for her keys. Once she had them, she let her bag fall back to her side and looked up at him, “Thank you for walking with me.”

“My pleasure,” he smiled.

“I’ll see you next week, right?”

“I think so, yea.”

“Good,” she said, “And remember if you need anyone to talk to between now and then, don’t hesitate to call.”

“I will,” he promised.

He headed back to his bike and he rode home that night feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

By morning, he’d managed to get mostly a full night’s sleep. Nightmares had plagued his dreams and interrupted his rest once, but he managed to get back to sleep in only a short amount of time. Luca was gone by the time he woke up, so he rode to work by himself. He’d been dreading the conversation his team would no doubt try and have but to his surprise, it was business as usual when he arrived. At lunch, he realized someone had left him a voicemail. He set his sandwich aside and pressed his phone to his ear.

“Hi, uh… it’s Harry, Maya’s father. I just wanted to let you know that Maya’s funeral is this Saturday. I know the two of you had some… issues, but you are more than welcome to attend. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay away. Hope to see you there.”

Unsure what to do, he excused himself from the kitchen where he’d been eating with his team and stepped out into the empty hallway. Without really thinking first, he quickly dialed a number and brought his phone back up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Cora, hi! It’s Jim. Um… I don’t know if this is weird, but I was wondering if we could talk for a minute.”

“Jim! No, it’s not weird at all. That is why I gave you my number,” she chuckled through the line.

“I know, it’s just, we don’t really know each other very well and-”

“What is it you wanted to talk about?” she asked patiently.

“You remember my ex I was telling you about? Well, her funeral is this weekend and her dad just invited me.”

“And what’s the problem?”

“I’m trying to figure out if I should go or not. I want to be there, if for no other reason than to see this through. But, the thought of going anywhere near her, even though she’s dead… it makes me feel sick. I know it’s stupid. I don’t… I don’t know why I’m still so upset, to be honest. She’s gone, it’s over.”

Cora was quiet for a moment before she finally responded. “You’ve gotta stop devaluing your own feelings. Whatever it is you feel about the situation, it’s real and it matters. Just because you’re not in a toxic situation anymore, doesn’t mean you’re automatically healed and that you shouldn’t care anymore. It’s okay if you still care.”

“I do care,” Street admitted, “What she did… it still hurts. But I still care about her too and I feel like I should be there.”

“Then go.”

“Really?” he sniggered, “It’s that easy?”

“If you feel like you should be there, then you should. Besides, seeing her put in the ground might be… cathartic. You could get some closure. Funerals aren’t for those who’ve passed, not really. They’re meant to make the living feel better. It might make you feel better. As she’s buried, so is the past.”

“What are you? A fortune cookie?” he laughed.

“Maybe I am. Or maybe I ordered Chinese for lunch and that was my fortune. You’ll never know.”

“That was not your fortune.”

“Then I guess I’m a cookie,” she said cheerfully. A beat passed before she spoke again, “If you don’t want to go alone, I could come with you.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m good.”

“Alright,” she said, “I’ve got to get back to work, are you good?”

“I am now. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she said, and he could practically hear the smile in her voice, “See you next week.”

The thought of the funeral and his chat with Cora kept him so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed his team was acting strange. It wasn’t until the end of the day that he realized they’d staged an intervention. Once he’d been done changing, Hondo had asked him to drop some papers off at Cortez’s office. He’d come back to find them waiting for him on the benches. They all rose as soon as he’d walked through the door.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Chris reached into her locker and pulled out a piece of paper, Maya’s note he realized, and handed it to him, “I kept it. I wasn’t sure if you’d want it or not.”

He took it back from her, glancing down at the careful lettering across the top. He went to his backpack where he’d left it in front of his locker and shoved the letter inside.

“She says she crossed a line. What did she mean?” Chris continued.

“I don’t know,” Street shrugged, “It could be any number of things, don’t you think?”

“What was the Rohypnol for?”

Street sighed, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. They already knew. In a way, he was grateful to Maya’s mom. He didn’t have to tell them now.

“What’s it usually for?”

A tense silence followed as the group realized they’d been right.

“Why do you guys wanna know so bad?” he asked.

“We already knew,” Hondo confessed, “We were hoping we were wrong.”

“Well, you weren’t,” Street said harshly, “What know? Do you feel better?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Luca asked.

Street threw his hands up in the air in a show of exasperation, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to talk about it. I’m ashamed. I feel guilty. It was my fault. Take your pick.”

“How could you think something like that would be your fault?” Deacon asked.

“I went there by myself,” Street answered matter-of-factly, trying desperately to keep emotion out of his voice because he knew if he let just a little slip then he would lose it. “I knew what she was capable of and I went there alone. I drank the wine even though I knew not to trust her, but I watched her pour it and she was drinking from the same bottle so I thought it was safe.”

“Street,” Chris said softly, cautiously stepping closer, “You know that’s not on you. She made the choice to do the things she did and she took yours away.”

“But now she’s dead because of me. Because I couldn’t hold it together enough after that to get her help.”

“You couldn’t help her,” Tan insisted.

“No,” Street said, starting toward the door before spinning on his heel and pacing back. He was aware of how desperate he sounded but he couldn’t reign himself back in. “I saw how upset she was. I have _ never _ seen someone lose it like that. Never. But I… I just wanted out. And I left her there to die. Alone. She killed herself so that I could be happy. Our job is about saving lives, right? Hondo, you told me that! I should have realized she needed help. I should have helped her!”

Hondo moved from his spot near the back of the group to stand beside Chris. “I realize it’s pointless to tell you that you couldn’t have predicted the fact that she’d take her own life. But what I do need you to understand is that you feeling like you needed to leave a dangerous situation because you couldn’t stand to be there anymore is not selfish. You haven’t failed somehow because you couldn’t stick around after she hurt you. The fact that you feel guilty for not doing more for her, despite everything that she has done, is just more proof that you have a good heart.”

Street scuffed his boot across the floor, staring down at his feet. The energy from his outburst was gone, leaving him with an empty feeling deep in his stomach. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. Part of me is glad she’s dead, and I hate myself for that. But the little bit of her that realized what she’d done was wrong, that was what drove her to that. She said she killed herself so that I can be happy. How am I supposed to live with that?”

“Day by day, I guess,” Luca offered.

“You talking to Doctor Wendy?” Hondo asked.

“No,” he admitted, rushing to cut off any admonishments, “But, she suggested someone else. I’m talking to them.”

“Good, that’ll help,” Deacon said, “And if we can help with anything, you know we’re always here.”

“Actually…” he said hesitantly, “I was wondering if I could ask you guys for a favor. It’s kind of a big one.”

The rest of the week passed by in a blur and, before he knew it, it was Saturday. He stood at the edge of the grass, watching the group of mourners clad in black as they milled around, waiting for the service to start. There was a coffin sitting on a metal platform, a red and white floral arrangement resting on top. Beside it was a photo on an easel. He couldn’t quite see it from where he was standing, but he knew it was of Maya. For a moment, he wanted to turn around and leave. To head home and find something else to do with his day off. Something that didn’t involve a sick parody of mourning for his psycho ex-girlfriend. But he knew Cora was right. The past could be buried with Maya. He knew the pain would still linger, but it was at least a step toward letting go.

“Are you ready?” Chris asked.

He looked away from the group, turning his head over his shoulder to look at his team standing behind him in their best black suits. Turning back to the funeral, he took a deep breath and nodded, stepping onto the grass. Two heads turned to them as their small group blended into the larger one, the grieving mother and father. Hondo held out his hand to shake Mr. and Mrs. Vanbrock’s as he offered condolences. The former returned the gesture, while Margo gave them a withering look, turning and storming off in a huff.

“I’m sorry,” Street said.

Harry watched his wife go, releasing an exhausted sigh. “She blames herself.”

“Why?” Street asked.

“She wasn’t there. Neither of us were. Our daughter was in pain and we were at the movies.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I’m her father. It’s my job to protect her and I failed.”

“It’s not your fault,” Street said earnestly.

Harry smiled sadly, reaching out to pat Street on the shoulder. “It’s not yours either, son.”

The older man walked off to find his wife. Not long after, the service began. Street stood at the back of the group with his friends, his arms crossed tightly over his chest in a self-induced hug. Chris stood next to him, her left arm wrapped through his. The others were just behind him, he could feel their reassuring presence. Soon the time came for the guests to approach the casket and lay a rose on top. He walked forward when it was his turn, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. Maya’s note. He carefully placed it underneath the floral arrangement. He ran his hand along the wood as he headed back to his team, stopping only briefly to look at the photo of a smiling Maya. She looked so happy and carefree. So blissfully unaware of everything that was going to happen. Of everything that she was going to do. 

He had so many questions that he’d never have answered. Was she always like this, or had having him in her life somehow driven her to this? Were there other men before him, or was he the exception that proves the rule? He remembered Hondo telling him once that people like Maya couldn’t be figured out, it was part of what made them so dangerous. If there was no way for him to ever know, it was useless to hang onto them. It was useless to hang onto her.

“Goodbye, Maya,” he whispered.

**Two Years Later:**

The world kept turning, just like it always did, and Street learned how to be ‘normal’ again. His insomnia went away and nightmares only came on the bad days. Slowly, he learned how to be happy again. He had his team to thank and the new friends he’d made at New Horizons. He still went every Tuesday night, sharing his story and his progress. It was his proudest moment when Cora let him meet Charlotte and the first time the little girl called him ‘Uncle Jim”. And when Olivia finally smiled at him. And when a young guy in his early twenties came in, nervously fidgeting with his hands in front of him, he felt confident enough in his own recovery to offer an olive branch and to do what Cora had done for him not too long ago.

Luca and Tan never did renew their quest to get him a date, no matter how much time passed. They knew he’d move on in his own time after he learned how to trust again. And after two years, tonight was the night.

The team had decided to go out to The Drunken Monkey for a little bit. A rare night where they were all free after work. Street pushed through the double glass doors into the crowded bar, reveling in the loud music and dim lighting he used to love so much.

“Street!” Luca called, waving his hand in the air.

He was the last to arrive, needing to make a quick stop to pick someone up. The others were all sitting at a large rectangular table by the window, sitting on their drinks and laughing together. A giant grin broke out on his face as he approached the table.

“Who’s this?” Tan asked, leaning backward to see who was behind Street.

Street reached behind him, grabbing the hand of the girl who’d come with him. He gently pulled her forward, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“I’d like you all to meet my girlfriend, Cora.”

The smiles that spread across each of their faces warmed his heart. They all rose from their seats, coming around the table to greet her.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you all. I’ve heard so much about you!” Cora said excitedly.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you,” Chris said earnestly, shaking her hand.

“How’d Street manage to land a girl like you?” Luca teased.

“Yea,” Tan agreed, “You are so out of his league.”

Cora snickered, looking up at Street with a sly smile, “I ask myself that question every day.”

“So do I,” Street agreed, meeting her gaze as a soft smile crossed his face.

“You guys are so cute, it’s disgusting,” Hondo laughed, “Let me go get you guys some drinks. What do you drink, Cora?”

“Scotch on the rocks.”

“Oh, I like her,” Luca said, “Keep her.”

Everyone laughed as they sat down again, Street finding an extra chair for Cora. Hondo returned with the drinks and they all sat around talking for hours, staying out way later than any of them had intended. Street didn’t mind. Getting to sit in this worn down pub with Cora and his friends was the best feeling in the world. As he watched her laughing with the people he cared about most in this world, his family, he realized that he loved her. And for the first time in a long time, the idea didn’t terrify him. He loved her and with that realization came the knowledge that everything was going to be okay. And he wouldn’t trade that for anything.


End file.
